Destiny and Faith
by bordeaux cookies
Summary: It was destiny. I met her three years ago on the edge of a rock. It was in Greece; I was on vacation when I met her. We both happened to be rock climbing at the time. She had bumped into me, before profusely apologizing, claiming I could have lost my balance and fallen. I did not mind. This beautiful girl was talking to me. That was all that stuck in my head at the time. Percabeth.


It was destiny. I met her three years ago on the edge of a rock. It was in Greece, the summer of 2012. I was on vacation when I met her.

We both happened to be rock climbing at the time. She had bumped into me, before profusely apologizing, claiming I could have lost my balance and fallen. I did not mind. This beautiful girl was talking to me. That was all that stuck in my head at the time.

She asked how she could make up for it. I told her she did not have to, for it surely was not her fault. She insisted she had to, otherwise it would remain as guilt in her conscience for the rest of her life, and she had only live twenty-four years of it. There had to be at least another forty years to live, she had said, and it would be my fault for not letting her make it up to me.

The blame did it, as did the self-condemnation. I asked her to accompany me to dinner that night, and she agreed.

Her honey-blonde hair intrigued me; how it fell in its obviously natural curls, fit for a princess, even in her hastily put together pony-tail. Nevertheless, what had really captivated me, was her stormy grey eyes, that had gleamed and shimmered under the summer sun, seeming as if they were calculating a million things at a time. When I had asked her out for dinner, she smiled brilliantly, exposing her pearly white teeth.

We climbed the rest of the rock together, enjoying each other's company, and joking around. At the peak, we sat in total tranquility, enthralled by the extraordinary view only seen from the top of the rock.

Greece lay before us; all the mountains, flora, glistening ocean blue. The wind wasn't extreme, but it gave a cool gust of air every now and then.

She gave me her name. She was Annabeth. Annabeth Chase.

(Annabeth would have also given me her phone number, yet my cell service didn't work outside the states, so it would have been a waste.)

* * *

><p>Dinner was at 7. We met at the restaurant Αθηνά ο ευφυής – or <em>Athena the Brilliant<em> – separately. She was a punctual lady, arriving exactly when the antique grandfather clock's big hand struck 7 and the little hand struck 12. I had been at the restaurant ten minutes early, for if she had gotten their beforehand, she would not have to wait for me.

Amazing, was the only word to describe her. Her light, silky gown reached the floor, covering her feet adorned with a small pair of heels. Annabeth's golden locks were now more tamed, free of sweat, and encircling her heart-shaped face like a halo. She was beautiful; an angel sent down from Heaven from God Himself.

We were served at a candle-lit table for two. I could not believe how unbelievably lucky I was to be sitting here with her. She animated her voice, with quirky hand-motions, speaking from her soul.

She came from America, like me, on a vacation. Tomorrow, she would return back to the States. Her dream had been to become an international architect, and she was still working towards that, since she was one in a big city, still unknown to the rest of the world.

Ideas came and went inside her head, each one topping the next, seeming to make the original plan more extravagant than the others. She knew how to elaborate and make things alive when she spoke.

Annabeth had been coming to Greece every summer after she had graduated from college. Turns out she had Greek roots in her, and she wanted to come "home" every once in a while, so to speak. I told her it was my first time in Greece, and she was a bit disapointed that she had to leave the next day, otherwise she would have been my personal tour guide. I wouldn't of minded if she was.

We seemed to click from the moment we met. A perfect match made in Heaven. Maybe even the gods upon Mount Olympus had deemed us worthy of each other. A missing piece to the jigsaw puzzle. A flower, and its stem. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase.

I saw her off from the airport, the next morning. She gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. She kissed me good-bye.

I woke up feeling lonely the morning after she left. Like a part of me went missing. Gone. Disappeared. Never to be seen again.

As I sat up in the hotel bed, I realized it was true. The piece of my heart, where Annabeth lay was stolen, by her from the moment she accidentally shouldered me of the rock, catching me before any harm was done.

And now that she was gone, so was my heart.

* * *

><p><strong><em>~*. Three Years Later .*~<em>**

Every morning since that day she left Greece I woke up lone. That had not changed, as I was in my apartment in New York City, thinking about her.

How I could never get her off my mind. Annabeth. Her soft curls, her petite frame, her pleasant smile. She was all I could've asked for. And I lost her in a matter of five minutes.

If only I had begged her to stay and she had refused. Then maybe, I would be able to look at another woman, and feel the same love, and compassion that I saw when looking into the grey eyes of Annabeth.

_Where was Annabeth? How was she? Was she with another man? Did she feel the same way I did? Had she fulfilled her dream?_ I only knew the answer to the last one. No. I would have known by now then. I would have found her, and congratulated her on a well-earned accomplishment. For she truly deserved the recognition.

Every day, when I went on my daily strolls through the streets of New York City, I searched for the barest glimpse of a blonde-haired, grey-eyed lady.

Then, I saw her.

I was on my usual walk, when I rounded a corner, and saw the curls. Those velvety, golden ringlets. She was sitting in a Starbucks Window seat, head buried in a book when I saw her through the glass screen separating me from her.

It was _actually_ her.

She glanced up from her book for a moment – The DaVinci Code – and that's when I could confirm it was, in fact Annabeth Chase. Her grey eyes sparkled with vivaciousness, and the innocence of a child. Those eyes that have been engraved in my mind and heart ever since I laid eyes on them.

The Starbucks inviting doors opened with a blast of warmth, and the alluring aroma of freshly boiled coffee. I ordered a french hazel-nut coffee, and took the seat near Annabeth, since it was the only one avalible in the hectic cafè.

"Nice book you have there," I told her, because it truly was an interesting book. Long, but interesting.

She looked up, panic shown on her face, before she calmed and replied, "Yeah, it's a good book," before she resumed her previous reading position. She hadn't noticed me yet. Was she really Annabeth Chase?

Her eyes were glued to the pages as she read every word, and digested every page of the book. She was nervously biting her bottom lip – an old habit Annabeth had. When she snapped up at me, all the signs she was giving off pointed her to one person, and one person only. Annabeth Chase.

"Would you _please_ stop looking at me like that!" she glared, looking directly into my eyes for the first time since my re-encounter with her.

Her glare faltered. "P-Percy?" she managed, under her weakened, surprised state.

"Yes?" I wondered. Her face lit up like the summere sky, when we had first met.

"Percy!" she repeated.

"Yes?" I asked once again. She whacked me on the head.

"I was making sure it was really you!" Annabeth smiled, gathering me in a hug. She quickly pulled back, a bit hesitant.

"Sorry..." she muttered, face turning red.

"For what?" I wondered, genuinely confused.

"Well... I er, hugged you, and you probably have a girlfriend or something, who's most likely yelling profanities at me in her head, and then I might of ruined your relationship, and –" she was biting at her lip again, as she cut herself off from rambling. She hid her flushed face from my view by her hair.

Pushing the locks of hair I have come to love to the side, tucking it behind her ear, I tilted her head so Annabeth's eyes were level with mine.

"I've missed you," I murmured, as I pulled her into another tight embrace. I felt her head lightly rest upon my shoulder, cradling her head in my neck.

"I have too," she whispered.

"No, I've _missed_ you," I clarified. Annabeth retracted herself from my hug, looking at me in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well – I've, I uh.. I don't have a girlfriend..." I blurted out. Annabeth's ponderous grey eyes turned to amusement.

"And?" she asked.

"Because, well... I've missed you."

"Point's been made."

"No, I missed your smile, your eyes, your hair, your bubbly personality that's fun and serious at the same time. I've missed your calculating look your eyes get when you suspect something, or the warmth you radiate when you're happy. I missed the way you looked at me..." I murmured, staring into her eyes. They were now serious, all traces of amusement were gone.

"B-But, you only knew me for a day!" she cried, and my heart just about broke. "And here you are, I don't know, saying you love me!"

"Well... I didn't say it like that, but yes..." I told her truthfully, yet my voice was broken. "I know you couldn't of felt the same way, but you had left all so suddenly, and now I've found yo –"

A pair of lips touched mine, the same way they had when Annabeth left from Greece. But more force was put in it; more passion and love.

"I love you too."

She had waited. Annabeth had waited those three years neither of us received contact from each other, because of faith.

I never believed in love at first sight, until I had met her. This beautiful, tanned, curly blonde haired girl, standing by my side on an important day. The day when she wore a white dress, and I, a tuxedo, standing before an alter in a church.

It was destiny that we met. But it was the faith we had in each other, that paved our future together.


End file.
